Long Road Home
by Nichole Thompson
Summary: Set in the summer before Sam leaves for college. Sam is on the road for one last job, or at least he thought this last hunt would be the end.


A/N: This is my first attempt at a Supernatural fanfic. Please be honest, but kind. I'm really interested in what you all think. This story is a response to PL Wynter's challenge for what would cause Sam to not leave for college. I'd like to thank Claire Kennedy for being my beta, and FutureMrDurance for the female add-in character.

Disclaimer: Muse... have you checked my wallet lately? My checking account? I don't get paid for writing anything Supernatural related, and therefore don't claim toownSam, Dean, John or Supernaturalrelated, other than what I've concocted in my mind. Also, the song lyrics included are to the song _Coffee and Cigarettes_ by Michelle Featherstone.

* * *

Chula Vista Hunt- Day 10

August 22nd. Only four days until he was free; free from the hellish life he'd grown up in; free from the overbearing, confrontational father who had always been more of a drill sergeant than a caretaker.

Only four days, and he was **still** thinking about taking off early. He knew he couldn't though; despite his brother's apparent denial of any type of emotion, he couldn't leave without saying goodbye. Dean had always been his caregiver growing up; the closest thing to a real parent that he'd ever known and there was no way he was leaving without at least a grunt of acknowledgement. Not when his father had told him to never come back.

Sam sighed heavily and closed his laptop. John had stormed off earlier that afternoon, after yet another one of their famous fights about Sam leaving the family to go to college. Needless to say he was grateful for the time alone. He just wished he could get those damn song lyrics out of his head. The words seared the very core of who he was; broke him down and calloused him every time he heard them. They made him resent John Winchester and everything he stood for each time the melody greeted his ears.

He reached over and pushed play on the CD player even though he hated the song; he hated it and he hated to admit that he liked it. It was comforting to him; the song made the decision for him. It made him realize there _was_ no decision, not really. There was no going back after that; not when he realized that leaving was the only option. It was the only way he could ever have a safe, normal life. He turned the volume up as the soft melody filled the air. All he had to do was listen.

_I gave up coffee and cigarettes_

_I hate to say it hasn't helped me yet…_

Well, Sam wasn't much of a smoker, the smell made him nauseous beyond all hell but the point was still the same. He was also pretty sure that even if he had decided to give up coffee, it wouldn't help; he'd already tried just about everything else, and _nothing _had helped.

…_I thought my problems would just dissipate_

_And all my pains would be in yesterday…_

He chuckled lightly at that; his problems were pretty sure to follow him wherever he went. Hopefully Stamford would be the end of that. Sam stood up and stretched, before walking to the bed, lying down and closing his eyes.

…_I poured my booze all down the kitchen drain_

_And watched all my bad habits get flushed away_

_I thought that that would keep my head on straight_

_And all my pain would be in yesterday…_

Pain- well that was certainly something Sam knew well. He'd never keep it only in yesterday, however; that much he knew. Unlike Dean, Sam's anguish stemmed more from his lack of a life and less from the sting of losing their mother. He'd never really had a mother to know. If it wasn't for the pictures that he had, her face would be as much of a mystery to him as everything else about her. No, that wasn't what had caused the preponderance of his hurt. He'd spent years of his life- countless hours, innumerable days-watching every kid in every town play around at school or on a playground as he was once again being driven away from a dingy motel where they'd stayed for 2 weeks, at most.

…_But I finally know what to do…_

_I must quit… I must quit… you._

There they were- the famous last words, the decision he no longer needed to make.

A few faint muffled knocks made their way through the obviously fake cherry-wood stained door. Sam waited a few seconds before rolling off the bed; he unlocked and opened the door, revealing a beautiful disaster of a girl.

"Devon?" Sam's eyes softened as he saw the tear-stained cheeks and the glassed over eyes stare up into his. She was tightly clutching her own arms, her hair matted to her head from the downpour earlier that day. She sniffled softly before answering him.

"Can I…" she swallowed hard, finding it difficult to get the words out. "Can I come in?" Her eyes pleaded with him; they broke his heart.

"Yeah…. definitely," he answered, ushering her in and taking her soaked jacket off of her, laying it on a chair. "Just a second," he said, quickly moving toward his bag on the other side of the room, rifling through it briefly before pulling out his warmest sweatshirt.

"Here," he offered, hoping it would warm her. She hungrily reached out for the shirt, hoping it magically would present her with more than warmth. She slipped it over her arms and rubbed them, hoping to rid them of the numb feeling of being wet and on the verge of frozen.

"Thank you," she said quietly, almost silently. She sat on the edge of his bed, staring down at her hands, which were now playing with the material of the grey hoodie. Sam sat down beside her, hoping to offer any help he could.

"I'm sorry to just show up like this," she began. "I just…" Sam could see the tears welling up in her eyes again. Her voice came hushed again, attempting to push the tears back. "I just had no where else to go."

Sam put his arm around her, gently stroking her arm with his thumb. "It's alright. You know you can come here any time." He cursed himself for that; he would be leaving in four days, and then she wouldn't really be able to come to him, now would she? "What happened, Devon?"

"It's just… everything hit me at once," she looked at him through her tears, which were now silently running down her cheeks and falling from her chin. "With the funeral… and canceling all of the wedding plans… just… everything is… everything is torture."

"Oh my god… I'm so sorry," he said, wrapping his arm tighter around her shoulder and pulling her closer to him. Devon set her head on Sam's shoulder and buried her face in his shirt. "Shh…. It's ok…. It'll be ok…" he hoped his words were comforting. A few moments later Devon turned into a pale, frail and trembling huddled mess in his arms. It startled him; in less than two weeks, she'd changed so much from when he'd first met her.

* * *

-- 10 days earlier -- 

They had gotten into town late on Tuesday morning. Sam was desperate to get to the library and get his work done. While John was more interested in teaching his sons hunting skills, Sam knew that if he was ever going to make it in college, he'd have to start early, otherwise he'd never be on the same level as everyone else.

"Excuse me?" A meek voice came from behind Sam. He turned around and found himself staring into the most gorgeous deep blue eyes he'd ever seen.

He furrowed his brow briefly, "Uh huh?"

She smiled, looking almost embarrassed. "I… uh… I saw that you are working on Calculus there… and I was hoping you could help me with a problem? I completely suck at math."

Sam's eyes softened and he smiled, gesturing to the seat beside him. "Yeah, no problem." She sat beside him and watched intently as he whizzed through the lengthy question. Once he'd finished, she stared in amazement.

"How… how did you do that?" She looked up at him. "I swear I've tried that problem at least a dozen times and could never come up with the right answer."

Sam smiled at her, "I don't know… I guess I'm just a geek." Pushing her pad of paper back in front of her, he lightly brushed against her arm.

"So geek boy… do you have a name to go along with the impressive Calculus skills?" Her words were playful, but the interest supporting them genuine.

"Sam… Sam Winchester."

She smiled genuinely and took his hand, shaking it with more force behind it than he'd expected. "It's nice to meet you Sam, I'm Devon Pierce." She released his hand and nervously tucked a loose strand of hair behind her ear; it hit her in an instant that she was probably being a nuisance. "I'm sorry if I bothered you… I'll let you get back to your own work."

"I, uh… it was no problem," Sam looked back at his book, watching her from the corner of his eye as she slowly stood up. He turned to look at her and added, "If you need any more help, just let me know."

She glanced back, a sparkle in her eye. "Thanks… Sam Winchester." She sat down at a nearby table and went back to her work, quickly growing frazzled with the next section of problems. She looked up at Sam; he was obviously still working hard, but he had said if she needed any more help. And he had sounded genuine. Before she knew it she was on her feet, her book and pencil in hand, making her way back to Sam's table. She didn't say a word, opting instead to clear her throat loud enough for him to hear.

Sam furrowed his brow momentarily before turning around and smiling. "What's next?" he asked, reaching for her paper.

"Parametric equations and conic sections," Devon replied. "I told you, I just really suck at math."

Sam smiled, "Well then I guess it's lucky you happened upon me this afternoon in the Chula Vista library."

"I guess it is." She sat down beside Sam and watched as he again effortlessly completed a problem, easily explaining how she could accomplish identical results.

"God, you make it look so easy," she claimed, her voice letting on a bit more astonishment than she'd hoped. "I swear, as soon as I'm done with this four credit class at the community college I'm never looking at another math book again."

Sam smiled; they had officially made the smooth transition into small talk and he was grateful for the breath of fresh air, not to mention the beautiful face that went along with that fresh air.

"Getting some classes out of the way before fall semester?" Sam turned his chair slightly to face her and looked into the endless blue ocean of her eyes.

"Yeah, the community college does half price classes during the summer and I really wanted to get that stupid math credit taken care of. Thankfully it's the only one I'm going to have to take."

"Wow, you already have all your classes planned out?" Sam hadn't exactly gotten that far; the constant traveling put a damper on finding out much about college aside from when registration and orientation were. Luckily he'd gotten e-mails regarding financial aid and housing; otherwise he may have been paying for college off of one of his father's credit card scams and living in the library research room.

Devon smiled, "Yeah, I had class registration a few weeks ago; I'm going to UCSF."

"I'll be up that way too… Stanford." Why did he feel like saying that was somehow bragging?

"Stanford? Wow… that's an amazing school."

Sam gave a nod and half smile in response. "Yeah, I'm excited about it. Although I have to say, the biggest perk is going to be getting away from my family."

"Oh I know exactly what you mean. My mother is so overbearing; has to know exactly where I am all the time and what I'm doing. I feel like I never have a moment of peace… and to top it all off, no matter what we're arguing about, I'm never right."

"Story of my life," Sam smiled.

"Well, that's a coincidence if I ever heard one," she laughed quietly, her endless blue eyes sparkling. It seemed as if they were bonded in that moment by their shared family difficulties. Their camaraderie set in stone in that instant of what Devon had called a coincidence.

Sam regretfully glanced down at his watch and just as regretfully told Devon he had to get going.

"Well, maybe I'll get the privilege of bumping into you again tomorrow?" She smiled confidently. It seemed like more of a statement, than a question. Sam couldn't help but smile back at her assurance. It was rare in a co-ed just graduating high school.

"I was considering coming back through here actually. It's quiet, not to mention easier than dealing with my father- who apparently has nothing to say to me other than to remind me of how I'm breaking up the family, and abandoning them to do my own thing." Sam pressed his lips together; he was surprised he'd given her that much information about his problems with his father.

Devon looked at him as though she understood exactly what he meant. "Well, I don't know about you. But I was thinking about studying for a little while tomorrow afternoon, and then heading to the coffee shop. Caffeine does wonders for my conversational skills."

Sam chuckled lightly; her conversational skills were rather impressive to begin with. "Any time in particular you were planning on studying?" Normally Sam wouldn't spend this much time getting to know a single person on a hunt, especially knowing they'd be leaving soon, but Devon would be going to school near him in the fall. Plus, she was only talking about coffee and studying, it wasn't like she was asking to marry him.

"Oh, I don't know," she responded playfully. "Maybe two-ish?"

Sam thought for a second before answering, "Hmmm… I think I could do that."

Devon smiled and collected her things. "See ya then, geek boy."

Somehow, Devon calling him geek boy didn't carry the same negative connotation as when the words were spilling from his brothers lips.

Sam smiled and said to himself, "Bye Devon Pierce."

* * *

"Dean?" Sam narrowed his eyes, looking around the too small motel room. Out of every single hotel chain in all of southern California, they had to pick the only one that was a complete and utter dump. It was just one more thing to loathe John Winchester for; as if Sam needed another reason. 

"Dad?" Sam called into the darkness. He knew they weren't there, which slightly surprised him. Dean had given him specific instructions to be back at six o'clock, so that they could get dinner. He flipped on the lights and dropped his bag by the door, gently rubbing at his temples; he could already feel a headache coming on. This was so typical of John and Dean too; everything was a double standard with them- and almost everything took the back seat to a hunt.

Sam half expected to find a partially legible note scrawled out somewhere on the table and when he didn't discover one he opted to flip on the television to pass the time. Forty five minutes later, John and Dean barged into the room, laughing about something. Both were covered in dirt, mud and random vegetation that was no doubt at the bottom of some deep hole they'd managed to get into, voluntarily or otherwise.

"Oh, hey Sammy," Dean said, removing his shoes. "Hope you haven't been waiting here long."

Sam glanced at the clock and resisted a biting comeback. "Well, you said six… so I was here at six."

Dean pulled off his shirt and wiped his face with it, hoping to remove some of the excess mud before hopping into the shower. "Sorry little brother… we got kind of held up."

"I see that," Sam replied flatly. Sam was about to continue, saying something about how John and Dean liked to keep him waiting around while they were out, but he was interrupted.

"Well, if you weren't studying or goofing off or whatever it was you were doing, you could have come with us. And we wouldn't have kept you waiting." That was John.

Sam glared at his father; he really did not want to have this argument yet again. "Yeah, I know… I'm leaving the team and I'm a disappointment. I get it, alright? I'm ruining your plan and your big dream of killing the thing… would you just come off it already?"

John returned his son's glare. It was definitely something Sam had learned from him, and learned well. "Don't you dare talk to me like that Sam."

Dean shook his head, he knew once they had gotten going, there was almost no way to get between them. These fights were becoming more frequent, and obviously Sam and their father never came to an agreement. Sam still wanted to go, and John wouldn't hear of it.

Sam chuckled at his father's statement. "Or what? I'd like to know…. Are you going to chain me up and throw me in the back of your truck so that I can't go? Are you going to disown me? Disinherit me! I'll save you the trouble… I don't want the rock salt shot gun and machete anyway!"

Dean sat down and rested his head in the palm of his hand, staring at the ground. This was already getting uglier than their other fights. He didn't even think that was possible before that moment.

An unmasked rage surfaced in John Winchester's eyes and he stepped closer to his youngest son, his fist and jaw both tightly clenched. "Why, you ungrateful little…"

Dean noticed the sudden change in his father's demeanor and jumped up, getting between them. "Alright that's enough… That's enough!" He maneuvered his way between them and pushed Sam behind him. "Sam, why don't you take a walk and cool off?"

Sam gritted his teeth and kept his eyes narrowed. "Yeah," he muttered quietly. "And you wonder why I want to leave at all…"

"What was that?" John barked, hearing perfectly clearly what Sam had said.

"Nothing," Sam lied. He grabbed his jacket off of the chair and pushed past both Dean and John to get outside, where he let out an exasperated sigh.

Dean glared at his father. "Why do you have to get him so riled up all of the time? You two can't even be in the same room together anymore!"

John glanced at Dean, the anger and rage partially subsiding from his eyes. "Dean this is none of your concern."

"Like hell it isn't!" he half yelled half laughed. His defiance somewhat stemmed from Sam's previous claims, but he knew his own words needed to be heard. "I'm the one that has to put up with all of this shit from you two all the time. You think that's easy for me!" Dean thought for a second, and allowed his voice to get a little softer. "This isn't about me though… you and Sam… you've always had tiffs, but Dad you know we need to let him go…. He has to do this, for himself."

John narrowed his eyes. "So you're taking his side in all of this?"

Dean clenched his fist, how was he going to get through to him! "I'm not taking anyone's side." He stood in silence for a moment, and then added, "I think you're both being childish." He hadn't expected to let the words slip out, but today seemed to be a day to bear all.

"I'm not being childish," John stated plainly. He didn't add anything more. That was to be the end of it. "Go take a shower so that we can get some dinner."

Dean conceded; he had said his piece, not that he even expected to get through to either his father or Sam. He sighed and gathered his things, heading into the bathroom; he'd talk to Sam once John was in the shower.

* * *

A/N: Please leave a review. I'd really appreciate feedback. 


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